


Inner Beast

by pelespen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pelespen/pseuds/pelespen





	Inner Beast

Two nights…  
  
The coming of the moon felt like acid in his veins, pulling them taught, searing them with a burning heat that felt more real than the rest of the days of the month. With each passing second, he could hear the blood pulsing through his body until it was like a drum, persistent, insistent, primal…  _real_.   
  
Remus sat in the far corner of the dimly lit kitchen, his long fingers gripping the thick ceramic mug filled with tea, honey, and firewhisky. A silent growl rumbled through him, hungry and mean as he watched  _her_  flit around the room.  
  
She knew it, too. She knew how he hungered, and the briefest flicker of a glance in his direction told him she felt his gaze, even through the curtain of dirty blonde hair that fell into his eyes.   
  
Deep down, a part of him blamed her. Months and months of cajoling and he’d finally conceded, slowly cutting back his wolfsbane potion in an attempt to “embrace his nature.” That same part of him wanted to punish her, devour her body with his own,  _possess_  her.   
  
And yet, deeper still, a part of him thanked her. Because the truth was, even in his youth as he was hiding in shame, feeling sorry for himself, he could never completely deny the fact that a part of him loved it. Even as he played the role of prefect, of the do-gooder in their little band of Marauders, even amidst his gratitude to his friends for their acceptance – deep down inside, every time that glowing orb fattened in the sky, part of him yearned for it, looked forward to that breaking through of animal truth.  
  
Remus grit his teeth and looked down into the shimmering liquid in his mug as  _she_  filled his senses in yet another sweet, succulent wave. Dear Morgana but her scent made his mouth water, literally. She knew what she was doing to him in that short little skirt of hers, and she was getting off on it. He could sense her heat, that sweet warm inviting heat that was unique to her alone, coming off of her, beckoning, tempting.   
  
He ignored the stares from his fellow Marauder across the table and took another long gulp of sweet fiery warmth.  
  
Two more nights, and he’d run.   
  
Two more nights. 


End file.
